Shooting with Broken Arrows
by GoingVintage
Summary: Oliver told Felicity that he couldn't be with someone he really cared about because of the life that he led, but when he almost loses her and blames himself, he makes a rash decision to protect them both.
1. Part 1

**PART 1**

The room was dark when Oliver slipped through the window and landed on the drab yellow tiles. Pushing back his hood, he pulled off his mask and shoved it deep into his pocket. He had no bow or arrows tonight – they weren't needed on this mission.

Like always, he surveyed his surroundings with a calculating eye. A curtain separated the side of the room he was on from the other, and through that thin, blue fabric, he could hear someone let out soft snores. He stored that knowledge away and made sure that his movements were stealthy so that no one would be alerted to the fact that he was there.

The steady beeping of the machine by the bed caught his attention. Normal heart rate. Low but stable blood pressure. Normal oxygen levels. The rhythmic _blip blip blip _of the green line transfixed him, and he watched it for a few long seconds. It felt like a lifeline – _his _lifeline. It took him a minute to finally gather the courage to look down at the figure lying in the bed.

Hair in a ponytail and long lashes fanning over her cheeks, Felicity looked, other than being paler than usual, totally normal. The oxygen mask over her face and the sensor attached to the tip of her index finger proved that she was in a state that was anything but normal, though. He could hardly believe that, just an hour before, she'd come out of surgery.

He hated that she was alone. The guilt that had been chomping away at his gut for the past five hours slammed into him again, making him silently curse himself at all that went wrong.

Taking a breath, Oliver reminded himself that, in a matter of a few hours, Felicity's parents would land in Starling City on a direct flight from Metropolis. Then her family would descend on this hospital room and, through their love, she would begin to heal. And she wouldn't be alone anymore.

_You did this to her._

Pushing aside the damning voice inside his head, he moved around the bed to where he could grasp Felicity's hand. It was cool to the touch, but as he squeezed it in his own, he felt the promising pulse beneath her skin. She was still alive. She was going to make it.

_She's here because of you. _

Oliver watched her chest rise and fall, the tightness in his own increasing with every passing second. He dropped Felicity's hand, a noise from the hallway alerting him that he was soon about to be joined by someone else. Not wanting to be seen anywhere near her, he yanked out his mask and pulled it over his eyes, resetting his hood on his head as he moved toward the window. Throwing one last look at her sleeping figure, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Felicity." As he climbed out of the window, he vowed that, despite the fact that he'd failed her when she'd needed him most, he wouldn't let her suffering be in vain. He'd get the bastards that hurt her.

_Tonight._

…

Three weeks and two surgeries. Felicity winced as the taxi driver jammed on his brakes in front of her apartment building. The setting sun cast a golden hue across the buildings, and even the dingy windows of some of the taller buildings twinkled in the light of the sunset. Felicity stared toward the darkening sky, her breathing uneven as she faced the fact that she was finally free from the hospital. She attempted to push the door open out of habit, but winced when pain shot from her side and down to her hip.

"Don't move." Her mother, holding her bag in the seat next to her, shot Felicity an annoyed look. "I'll help you out. Just stop trying to do everything for yourself and you'll heal faster!"

Felicity was sure she heard her mother whisper something that sounded like "exasperating child" as she climbed out of the cab. Closing her eyes, Felicity wished things could have been different. She never should have gone out to investigate without alerting Oliver or John. It was supposed to be an innocent recon mission, which she'd done a dozen times before. It wasn't until she was on her way back to the lair that she heard the voice coming from the alley. She never should have confronted the two men, but they'd been close to raping a young girl and the fear on her face had driven Felicity react. When she stepped out of the shadows and yelled for the men to stop, she'd been full of the strength and confidence that came with normally having men like Oliver and John by her side. She remembered the girl screaming and running away, and she remembered pulling out her pepper spray at the same time she realized that she was surrounded. After that, her memories were nothing but a haze of heat and pain. She woke up in the hospital three days later, a gaping hole in her side from a close-range 9mm blast, a hole in her liver, and a broken femur bone. The weeks of medication and surgeries to repair the damage had resulted, finally, in her release from the hospital. She was slowly healing, but it would be months of rest and physical therapy before she'd be allowed to function regularly again. Or return to work.

A familiar stab of pain not caused by her injuries ricocheted through her as her thoughts drifted to Oliver. In the three weeks she'd been in the hospital, he hadn't stopped by. Not once. He'd sent the largest bouquet of flowers she'd ever seen, which were beautiful but full of daisies that made her sneeze so hard that her stitches had come loose, and he'd called the very first day she was conscious, but he'd never darkened the door of her hospital room. John stopped by frequently, always full of supportive platitudes and vague comments about Oliver being out of town on Queen Consolidated business. Felicity didn't believe any of it because she'd been well aware of his stupid calendar before that night and knew he didn't have anything scheduled, but she couldn't understand why he hadn't been by to see her. Very little that Oliver Queen did ever made sense to her, and his avoidance of her had to be the most painful mystery yet.

Steeling herself against the imminent pain, Felicity took her mother's arm when the door opened and carefully slid out of the cab. Once her crutches were safely under her, the cabbie and her mother walked her to the door, and then they were on their own to get inside and up to Felicity's apartment. She moved with aching slowness, her body sore and weak from her injuries and lack of use, but she was glad to be home. Sleeping in her own bed was the first step to feeling normal again.

...

He stood on the rickety landing of an eleventh floor fire escape, his body pressed against the brick building across the street from Felicity's apartment building. He blended into the night, moving like a ghost. Hovering on the fringes of her life. Watching.

Through the open curtains, he could see her moving around her small studio apartment. She moved with careful steps on her crutches, and even from his higher vantage point, he could tell she was thinner and that there were dark circles beneath her eyes. But most importantly, she was safe.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there. The cold of the spring night had descended over Starling City, and dew was already settling on the railing while he stood there. He watched as she laughed at something her mother said before gripping her side as a flash of pain spread across her face. Her roots were in desperate need of a touch-up, and for a brief second, he smiled. He'd never figured her for a bottle blond until she'd confessed as much, and he thought that was one of the most unique parts of her character. She was yin and yang, simplicity and mystery all wrapped up into one vulnerable package.

He hated how much he missed her. He also hated how much he depended on her. Sure, he knew she was pretty crucial to the team, but he never had never realized how much she calmed him and made him feel centered until she wasn't around anymore.

A siren suddenly wailed from a police cruiser that had been parked down on the corner, yanking Oliver's attention back to the present. Before he was tempted to do more than watch from a distance, he turned and climbed back up the fire escape, leaving her in the care of her mother, where she couldn't be hurt or, even worse, killed.

…

"So how long's this shit gonna go on?"

Diggle's question caught Oliver off-guard, and he looked up from the computer where he'd been conducting a search for the past hour. "What?"

Nodding toward the screen, Diggle stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You don't know jack about what you're doing. Just call her. She can tell you how to do what you're trying to do in two seconds, and then you can get what you need and we can finally go get some food. I'm starving."

"I'm not calling her." Oliver stared back down at the screen, hoping his tense shoulders and curt words sent Diggle a message to back the fuck off.

"Ever?"

Oliver ignored the question and closed out the browser, defeat making his clenched jaw draw even tighter. He'd watched Felicity work enough that he'd figured this hacking shit couldn't be all that hard. Seven attempts and an hour later, he knew he'd been dead wrong.

Spinning around in the chair, Oliver crossed his legs and leveled his gaze on Diggle. "She needs to heal."

Diggle snorted. "Really? Because it's been four weeks, she's been home for one of those weeks, and I've already seen her three times since then." Diggle moved toward him. "She doesn't ask about you anymore, you know. I think she's given up on you suddenly deciding not to be a dick and showing up to see her."

Oliver ignored the heavy, sinking feeling in his stomach and swallowed. "Good."

"Are you going to ask how she is at least?"

"I know how she is." Oliver turned off the monitor and crossed his arms with a scowl.

Diggled laughed. "So that's it? She gets hurt and, instead of being a man and facing it and helping her get better so that she can get her ass back here where she's needed, you just leave her hangin' just to creep around outside her fucking window?"

"We're not talking about this."

"Jesus, Oliver, when are you going to come to terms with what that girl means to you? You put two dudes in the hospital because of what they did to her, you've been even more unpleasant than normal, and you're kind of killing me right now."

Standing up, Oliver grabbed his jacket. "I'm going to get some food. You coming?"

Diggle studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Yeah, man," he nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

Author's note: I want to thank everyone for welcoming me into the Arrow/Olicity fandom! It's great to see so many of my old Puckleberry readers shipping Olicity – feels like a reunion! I don't know how many parts this will be or how often I can update due to my insane work schedule, but I'm going to give it my very best effort (and not put myself under the same pressure I used to when I was writing Puckleberry fic.) I'm a little nervous about dipping my toe into a multipart fic again, but the only way I'm going to regularly start writing anything at all again is to make myself.

Anyway, this fic is inspired by Daughtry's "Broken Arrows", which is my current Olicity!angst go-to song.


	2. Part 2

**PART 2**

Felicity hadn't updated her resume since before she was hired at Queen Consolidated, but on a Friday night, five weeks after she was attacked, she was doing exactly that. Or trying, at least…

The cursor sat next to her name, blinking steadily, while Felicity stared, unseeing, lost in thought.

"What are you doing?"

The sound of Barry's voice made Felicity jump, and she slammed her laptop closed as she spun to face him. He held up the bags from the Chinese place and waggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh as she reached for her crutches.

"I'm about to update my resume. As soon as I'm healed, I'm looking for a new job."

Barry unpacked the cartons from the bag and pulled out the plates and silverware, his face unreadable. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Why?"

Felicity let out a snort and reached into the fridge to pull out a Snapple. "You have to ask? The hero of Starling City, my boss, and someone I _thought_ was my friend doesn't bother to call me or see me in five weeks and you think I'm going back to work for him? After all I've done for that man – all the laws I've broken and statutes I've violated and what do I get? A big fat nothing! Going back to work for him?" Felicity rolled her eyes. "Please!"

"Maybe you're being irrational? Don't get me wrong, it worries me when you're putting yourself in harm's way and we can tell," he pointed to her leg, "that the results aren't always good, but you love working for Oliver."

"Did." Felicity emphasized the word. "Now I'm not sure he's not just a cowardly weasel." Reaching around him, she snatched a plate and a container of chicken lo mein and plopped down onto a bar stool, wincing slightly at the pain.

Barry sat down next to her and fumbled with his container. Felicity knew, from the look on his face and the way he kept shooting her sideways glances, that he wanted to say something else. After silence passed long enough to annoy her, she bumped him with her shoulder. "What?"

Barry laughed nervously. "Nothing."

"Really? Because you're clearly not saying something. I can see it all over your face. When you hold back, you get this really weird look like you smell something nasty and your face turns red…exactly like it's doing now."

Barry sat his fork down on the counter and stared at his hands. "It's just… well…"

"For real, Barry? Could you maybe spit it out sometime today?"

"It's just that when I got here last night, I did a perimeter check of your place after you fell asleep and I was checking the windows and I _swear _I saw movement on the fire escape directly across the street. Like just… like someone standing in the shadows. Watching."

Felicity stiffened. "It was probably nothing."

"Or," Barry ventured, "it was Oliver. Checking up on you. Could be him, ya know? You don't really think he's disappeared completely, do you? Not the way you two…"

"'We two' what?" Felicity was growing more irritated by the minute.

"Flirt! Have that back and forth stuff like me n' John aren't even in the room!"

Felicity let out an indignant laugh and shook her head. "I've told you before that there's nothing between us. I wonder how many times I'll have to repeat myself before you believe me? Especially considering he hasn't even tried to contact me, because I was obviously nothing more than his on-call hacker and he's probably already replaced me. And knowing him, she's probably another beautiful, leggy model-type with big boobs and an IT degree from some community college!"

Barry said nothing, instead choosing to shove a fork full of food in his mouth to hide his smile. Annoyed, Felicity turned away and focused on eating. Without meaning to, she let her eyes drift to the window that faced the building across the street. Her blinds were up, the window open to let the breeze blow in. She squinted into the night and wondered if Barry had really seen Oliver, or if she was just full of wishful thinking, as usual.

…

At the six week mark, Felicity's cast was removed, her crutches were taken away, and she was given a clunky walking boot. Even though it was awkward and she'd already stumbled half a dozen times in the first hour, it felt so good to be free of the crutches. The gunshot wound in her side was healing, raw but on the mend, and now her leg was finally progressing, too. She felt lighthearted and determined as she made her way back to her apartment. As soon as she got home, she printed out a copy of the letter she'd spent the early dawn hours typing out, over and over again until she got it right. As she tucked it into her portfolio and pulled on a pair of skinny jeans that would slide easily inside her boot, she told herself that she was doing the right thing.

The lobby of Queen Consolidated was busy when Felicity came in through the spinning glass door. Using her badge to get access to the executive floors, she smiled at Betty from accounting and Ethan from janitorial services while she waited for the elevator doors to open. It felt so great to be inside the building again. Her fingers itched to get back to work, but… well…

When Felicity got off on the right floor, she breezed past the receptionist and pushed open the door to Oliver's office. Isabel stood inside, her hands on her slim hips, and she and Oliver were clearly squaring off against each other about something, once again. Oliver's face paled when he realized she was standing there, quickly jumping out of his chair.

"Felicity! What are you doing here?"

"Oliver, we're not finished," Isabel interrupted in that typically monotone voice that drove Felicity crazy.

Felicity rolled her eyes behind Isabel's stiff back.

"We're done for now, Isabel. Come back later."

Isabel let out an irritated huff before she turned and left, making sure to shoot a pointed glare at Felicity before she stomped out the door. Oliver gave Felicity a tight smile, which only made her more annoyed. It was so impersonal, like they were barely friends, like she hadn't spent more time seeing him half-dressed than fully clothed, like she hadn't saved his life on more than on occasion.

"Are you okay to be out and about yet? It's only been six weeks," Oliver told her.

"I'm surprised you even remembered." Felicity jerked open her portfolio and pulled the single piece of paper from insideI , shoving it into Oliver's hands. She hoped he didn't notice the slight tremble in her own as the letter passed between them.

"What's this?" Oliver glanced down, his eyes scanning the paper for a few seconds before he jerked his head up. "Resignation? You're leaving? What? Why?"

"You have to ask?"

Oliver moved to lean on his desk, kicking his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. He looked so relaxed and unaffected that Felicity wanted to slap him.

"Enlighten me, please?"

"Seriously?" Felicity pushed up her glasses as they slid down her nose and glared at him. "I thought we were friends, Oliver. Actually, once upon a time, you told me we were partners, but then I almost get killed and my big hero friend doesn't even check on me once. In six weeks!"

"Not true," Oliver interjected. "I called you."

"One freaking time! John proved to me that _he _was my friend while I was recovering but you… you, Oliver Queen, are a jerk. The entire world revolves around you apparently, and because I'm out of commission, I guess I was of no use to you. Well, you know what? That's fine! I've given you everything, Oliver, since I came on board. _Everything. _And you've given me nothing… of course, ya know, except for those times you saved my life, and don't get me wrong, I'll never forget those times and I'll always be appreciative of them, of course, because you didn't have to yet you did and that just means –"Felicity cut herself off and moved in, jabbing her finger in Oliver's chest. "Wait! I'm getting off track. What I'm trying to say is that you can take your stupid executive assistant job, your great salary and benefits, your sweaty, beautiful muscles, and your vigilantism, and shove them straight up your Armani-wearing ass. I'm done. I can't work for someone I don't respect and who doesn't respect me."

Felicity turned, prepared to march out of his office, but forgot she was wearing the boot and tripped, nearly crashing into the table. Just as she stumbled, John walked in and caught her.

"Thank you." Felicity gripped his arm to steady herself and then smiled at him. "We're still on for lunch on Friday, right?"

John nodded. "Yeah, of course. Belly Burger, like always."

"Great. Well, I have a job interview but I'll meet you there. See ya then."

Holding her head high, Felicity stormed out of the office.

…

"Job interview?"

Oliver was still holding Felicity's resignation letter tightly in his fist. Glancing down at it, he wadded it up and slapped it down on his desk.

"Yeah, she just quit."

Diggle smiled.

"What the hell are you grinning about? She just quit! What am I supposed to do without her? What are _we _supposed to do without her? We can't get the intel we need without her, Dig!" Oliver gestured toward the door Felicity had just exited and shook his head. "Seriously, why the fuck are you smiling?"

John slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "You've basically pretended she didn't exist for the last six weeks, man, so I don't know how you thought this was gonna end any way other than how it did."

"I was doing it for her own good," Oliver muttered. "That's why I've stayed away. She needed time to heal and be kept out of harm's way. And she only seems to get into danger when her life involves me, so... I thought..."

"Damn, you're an idiot." Diggle clapped his palms together and rubbed them together. "So what's for lunch? I'm starving."

Oliver stared at his friend, unable to reconcile Dig's nonchalant attitude about losing Felicity. How could he seem so... blasé when Oliver felt like he'd just lost a key member of the team? It didn't make sense.

He stared at letter again for a few more seconds before turning and dropping it on his desk. It fluttered down slowly, and Oliver tracked it with his eyes until it landed, covering his name plate.

His head was pounding. It felt like a hangover and the after-effects of a strenuous workout all rolled into one. He rubbed his temples before turning his gaze on Dig, who was now leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed. "I'll bring the car around if you want to get some lunch."

Oliver nodded dismissively and Diggle headed off, leaving him alone. His chest tight, he jerked on his tie until it loosened enough to allow him to breathe. Once the tie was hanging around his neck, completely undone, Oliver turned to stare out the window. Clouds were rolling in off the water, casting the city streets below in dark shadows. He knew the rains would come soon, and he felt relieved. He loved when the weather agreed with his mood.

…

Felicity knew her skills, education, and work experience would make it easy for her to get a job, but she hadn't expected to receive an interview or get hired by the very first company she'd applied to. Even though Barry told her it was too soon and John told her that she needed more time to heal, Felicity went to work at Starling City Acres just three days after quitting Queen Consolidated. She knew that if she stayed home, she'd have too much time to think. And thinking led to regret. And regret, naturally, would lead to alcohol. And alcohol would only lead her to her drunk dialing a certain billionaire playboy hero that she missed with every beat of her heart. So she worked.

Starling City Acres was an assisted-living facility that sat on the edge of what was left of the Glades. It smelled like disinfectant and sadness. Felicity's office was really just a glorified cubicle full of antiquated computer equipment that made her want to cry. The director had promised a big IT budget because they needed to get their records online and streamline patient care and he believed Felicity could do it. She didn't have the heart to tell him that, once he bought the right stuff, she'd have everything done and ready to go in two weeks flat. She could do this kind of work in her sleep.

On her fourth day at her new job, she was sitting in her cubicle staring out the dingy window that faced downtown Starling City. She could see the Queen Consolidated building shimmering in the sunlight as it towered over the rest of the city. Her eyes zeroed in on Oliver's office and she squinted, almost wishing she could see him stand up and move around.

"You're pathetic, Smoak," she told herself. Shaking her head, she decided to head down to the cafeteria for lunch. One of the perks to the job was free lunches. One of the drawbacks (and there were always drawbacks) was that the "free" lunch was institutional, mushy food designed for ill senior citizens. She'd choked down enough mashed potatoes in the past four days to completely jam up her insides, but her crutches were too much of a pain to bother going down to the diner on the corner.

"Miss Smoak!" The voice buzzed from her antiquated phone's speaker.

She pressed the button to respond. "Yes?"

"There's a delivery here for you."

Curious now, Felicity grabbed her crutches and made her way to the front desk. Looking around, she saw nothing sitting on the countertop. Locking her eyes on the receptionist, she asked, "Delivery?"

A Belly Burger bag was thrust toward her. Felicity started at it for a few beats before gingerly taking it. "Who brought this?"

"Dunno." The receptionist snapped her gum. "One of those local delivery courier dudes dropped it off for you."

Felicity stared down at the bag until the smell of the cheese-laden burger reached her nose. Stomach growling, she mumbled her thanks and clomped back to her desk. When she opened the bag, a small note fell out. Unfolding it, she read the words written in a familiar handwriting: _I miss you. _

Despite the pain squeezing her chest and the residual anger in her head, Felicity smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So I'm super sorry that it took three weeks to get to the 2nd part. I wanted to do review replies and knock this out two weeks ago, but I've been working a lot of hours and, therefore, sleeping a lot of hours! But anyway, I'm still not sure how many parts this is going to be. I just intend to update the next part faster than this one!


End file.
